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There are a few grey-haired ladies in the corner booth looking like they might be grabbing a bite after church.

Seated at the adjacent striped, padded booth are two young men in baseball caps who look a lot like brothers, and five kids and three adults seated about a round table in the centre of the restaurant sharing plates and plates of food.

In another booth, there is an older man with a dated, floppy hair-do — which actually works at Kane’s Harley Diner — and an older couple who hold hands between each bite.

And then there’s me, thinking the place — which is often quiet during the mid-week — would be empty and looking for a place to sit.

Securing the last booth in the sprawling restaurant along Inglewood’s main stretch — because a table will never do when there are booths to be had — I plunk down for breakfast only to be told that while I’d wasted away the Sunday morning sleeping, the diner had moved on to lunch.

Within minutes my waitress — a lovely lass in her fishnet stockings, dreadlocks and many piercings — greets me and, unsolicited, insists on finding me a newspaper given I must appear a sorry sod, out all alone.

She takes her stellar service a step further and convinces the kitchen to cook me up a burrito, bringing out my breakfast as Neil Diamond belts out Sweet Caroline.

Adequately packed with eggs and cheesy goodness, its flavour was slightly overpowered by the sausage.

If you fancy something light you might only be able to eat half, but if you are in the mood for a rather rich and somewhat greasier version of the burrito it’s not bad.

The burrito was served with pretty basic hash browns by a waitress who was kept quite busy — but very attentive and friendly.

Kane’s does not appear to be faux trendy nor is it overpriced.

Instead, it appears to be good old-fashioned food for the masses with a little nostalgia on the side.

Sign the guest book at the front counter and wander around the stores nearby.

Kane's Harley Diner is a vroom with a view offers great food

There are a few grey-haired ladies in the corner booth looking like they might be grabbing a bite after church.

Seated at the adjacent striped, padded booth are two young men in baseball caps who look a lot like brothers, and five kids and three adults seated about a round table in the centre of the restaurant sharing plates and plates of food.

In another booth, there is an older man with a dated, floppy hair-do — which actually works at Kane’s Harley Diner — and an older couple who hold hands between each bite.

And then there’s me, thinking the place — which is often quiet during the mid-week — would be empty and looking for a place to sit.

Securing the last booth in the sprawling restaurant along Inglewood’s main stretch — because a table will never do when there are booths to be had — I plunk down for breakfast only to be told that while I’d wasted away the Sunday morning sleeping, the diner had moved on to lunch.